...keep cropping up, costumed like mountains. I now have to load the trailer with the 2 horses, load the truck with Sable and Rorschach (poor baby), drive through Stockton with the entire mob to drop the dog and cat off at the vet, and then onto Castro Valley to drop off the horses and the trailer.

And I'm not even remotely, I mean anything like packed. So then I will drive home in the rush-hour traffic and pack like a crazed weasel and leave the house at 4am or so to meet Anita at CW's at 6am.

All the result of being conscientious about doing work yesterday. Grumble.

At least the laundry is done. And it would be better if I fed myself lunch. And the trailer people were absolutely fabulous ("The Trailer Specialist, Lockeford CA". Make a note of it), and so now I'm so comfortable driving the unloaded trailer that I can rip the hell out of Alannah Myles' "Black Velvet" and still keep it all on the road.

Right. Time to stop writing and start doing.

Current Mood:stressedCurrent Music: Smashmouth's cover of "I'm A Believer"

Re: A horse named Rorschach

No, no. The cat is named Rorschach. And while you know I live to flatter you, and my life is an empty shell without your presence in it, the cat is a black-and-white charmer of a Turkish Angora who pretty much named himself.